


Raindrops on Roses

by dreamersshouldknowbetter



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, It's all fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 05:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamersshouldknowbetter/pseuds/dreamersshouldknowbetter
Summary: It's raining. Betty loves it when it rains.





	Raindrops on Roses

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very old, very short one shot that appeared on my tumblr but I realized was never uploaded here.

“Betty? Betty are you listening to me?”

“Huh? Oh, no. Sorry.” Betty let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she attempted to bring herself back to reality. 

Jughead slowly closed his laptop and climbed off of her bed, moving to join her in the bay window. She pulled her knees into her chest, wordlessly creating room for him to sit.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, running his hand up her calf and bringing it to rest on her knee. “You’ve been staring out this window all night.” He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb back and forth across her skin, a small gesture of affection.

“It’s raining.” She whispered as she looked out the window, a small smile crossing her lips, her mind millions of miles away. “I love it when it rains.”

Jughead followed her lead and looked out the window, a small but steady stream of water rolling down the window pane. It was a beautiful rain, gentle but consistent, the sound of raindrops on glass slowly lulling Jughead into the same trance that had seemingly taken over Betty.

“’And in this moment, like a swift intake of breath, the rain came.’” When he spoke he recaptured Betty’s attention, with her turning to him, silently questioning where his words had come from.

“It’s Truman Capote.” He explained.

“It’s fitting.” Betty smiled, a warmth in her eyes. She brought her hands over his, letting her fingers become entangled between his. “You know,” she began softly, “when I was little, I was scared of the rain. I’m not sure what it was, whether it was the thunder or the tapping of the rain on my windowsill or the gray in the sky, but it terrified me. So every time it rained, Polly would come into my room and sit me down on this window seat and wrap me up in my comforter. Then she’d hug me and we’d look out the window, and she’d sing.” As Betty spoke, she became lost in her memories, and began to sing,

“ _Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens  
__Bright cooper kettles and warm woolen mittens…”_

She stopped, embarrassed at her own instinct to sing. She allowed Jughead’s hands to ground her once more, returning to the present moment, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she felt the heat of Jughead’s eyes on her.

“Polly always had a thing for the Sound of Music,” she shrugged with a smile, pulling her hands away from his and placing them in her lap, staring down at them to avoid Jughead’s eyes. “Anyway, it worked. Eventually I began to love when it rained, it always reminded me of Polly. Well,” she laughed, “Polly and Julie Andrews.”

Jughead leaned forward, placing his hand beneath her chin and guiding her head upward until her eyes met his.

“That was a beautiful story Betty.” His tone was almost solemn, his way of acknowledging the gift Betty had given him with her words. Betty lowered her knees into a cross-legged position, allowing her torso to lean forward and kissing Jughead softly on the lips. Pulling away, she rotated her body and leaned back into Jughead, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist and pulling her close. She fit herself between his legs, nestling her head into the crook of his neck, each piece of her body melding perfectly into his.

“I love the rain,” She sighed heavily, contentedness filling her from her head to her toes.

“And I love you.” Jughead replied, resting his head against hers. 

Betty smiled, rolling her head to the side to look at him. “I love you too.” She whispered, capturing his lips with hers. They stayed in that window seat for a while, with her head rested gently on his shoulder, letting the rhythm of the rain wash them away.


End file.
